


Counterclockwise.

by WithAFlickOfHerWand



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Draco Malfoy, Boggarts, Dark Hermione Granger, Death Eaters, Drabble, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Time Travel, Time Travelling Harry Potter, Time Turner, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithAFlickOfHerWand/pseuds/WithAFlickOfHerWand
Summary: Everybody fears something, and now Hermione knows exactly what scares Draco Malfoy the most. In order to save her nemesis from himself, she makes the decision to go back in time and prevent his Boggart from ever leaving that closet, but what she doesn't realise is that everybody has to face their fears eventually and meddling with time does awful things to Witches and Wizards. (Begin's in Third Year, will continue on to Sixth year at least.)





	Counterclockwise.

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw a post on Tumblr about this and let me just tell you I was inspired to write this at 4am instead of trying to sleep, so I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Edit: Rewrote this as a first chapter for an upcoming fic as i recently found inspiration to continue this on and conjoin it with another fic idea! Just a pre-warning, this will be a Dramione central fic, and will feature Dark! Hermione and the effects of meddling with time! Hope you enjoy!

The tall wardrobe rattled violently, thumping it's solid legs against the floor with every jerk. The students that surrounded Hermione gazed at it intently, as if the sole reason for the unpredictable movement was about to willingly present itself for all to see.

"Intriguing, yes? Would anyone like to venture a guess as to what's inside?" Professor Lupin turned to face the class, his eyes finally landing on Dean Thomas after a moments hesitation.

"Is that a Boggart, Sir?" Dean asked warily, never meeting the Professor's eyes, a trait many of the students had apparently developed towards him. Professor Lupin's haggard appearance and lack of confidence seemed to be the cause of the student's wariness and the reason why they all shied away from conversing with him as well as they would with the other teachers, but Hermione wasn't one for judging people by their looks, and she intended to give the Professor the same treatment she gave to almost all the Professors at Hogwarts: her utmost respect.

"Excellent, Mr. Thomas. Now, can anyone describe to us what a Boggart looks like?" His eyes then settled on Hermione, who looked rather dishevelled and out of place amongst the students, with several of her curls that had escaped her messy bun framing her sticky forehead.

"No one knows." She smiled slightly, and nodded in affirmation of her own answer.

Ron turned on the spot to face her and jerked wildly as he noticed their proximity. He shakily pointed a finger at her. "When'd she get here?" He asked Harry, who shrugged in response. Hermione was secretly thankful for Harry’s unobservant nature recently, as she hated blatantly lying to them both and tried to avoid it whenever possible.

"Boggarts are shape-shifters. They take the shape of whatever a particular person fears most. That's what makes it so-" Hermione recited, as it was a familiar paragraph from one of the many books she had read over the summer until Lupin rather rudely interrupted.

"Terrifying, yes. Luckily, a very simple charm exists to repel a Boggart. Let's practice it now, shall we? Without wands, please... Riddikulus!" He made a motion that resembled a conductor for an orchestra, a small smile on his face as the students called out 'Riddikulus' in unison. All except for Draco Malfoy and his gang.

"This class is ridiculous." Draco muttered softly, huffing sightly as he re-positioned his injured arm. Although he spoke quietly compared to his usual loud tone when he insulted someone, it was still loud enough for the Professor to hear. Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy snickered beside him.

"Excellent, Mr Malfoy has graciously volunteered to go first. But you see, the incantation alone is not enough. What really finishes a Boggart off is...laughter. You need to force it to assume a shape you find truly amusing." Lupin gestured towards Malfoy, summoning him to the front of the class.

Malfoy apprehensively eyed the once again rattling wardrobe as he took several strides forward, ignoring the scoffs that came from the Gryffindor students. Hermione eyed him sceptically, what could Malfoy possibly be scared of except his precious Father saying no to an extra bedroom? He was a spoilt prat and silently, Hermione felt the smallest hint of amusement that he was being made an example of in front of the whole class.

"What would you say is the thing that frightens you most?" The Professor asked, whilst Malfoy’s eyes never lifted from the floor in front of him.

"I'm not scared of anything." Draco muttered coolly, despite the fact that his heart was thumping erratically at the mere thought of his worst fears being paraded to the class which largely consisted of his inferiors and his enemies. He shrugged sharply, before fixing his gaze on the mirrored doors.

"Well, I highly doubt that. Don't worry, Malfoy, you're with friends and classmates here, nothing to be embarrassed about." Lupin spoke softly, flashing a small, genuine smile in the boys direction.

'Friends? Not bloody likely.' Draco thought.

"Right then, Mr Malfoy. Wand at the ready. One. Two. Three!" Lupin pointed his wand at the wardrobe, and as if on cue, sparks flew from the tip of his wand, striking the doorknob until the door swung open.

A tall man, with long pale blonde hair stepped out of the cupboard. His eyes were narrowed at the boy who shrunk considerably before him.

Draco took a step back, his eyes never wavering from his father's vicious scowl. Draco began to tremble, it had been a while since his father had looked so deranged with rage, usually triggered by too much fire whiskey and Draco's cheeky remarks. His mother, Narcissa had almost always taken the blame for Draco's mistakes, allowing him to escape to his bedroom momentarily whilst his Father screamed horrible insults at the poor woman until he passed out.

Draco was seven when he first laid eyes on his mother's hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes. She looked far older than he had ever seen her, not that he spoke that thought aloud. He had learnt from experience never to talk about things which did not concern him, such as his father's abusive habits and his alcohol abuse, or his mother's reluctance to leave him and save herself or the frail, gaunt appearance she had quickly adopted after Draco’s last mistake.

Draco didn't blame his mother for staying with Lucius, not in the slightest. She was, after all, a woman blinded by publicity, power, and all the gold in the Malfoy vault at Gringotts, which was apparantly worth far more than a few cuts, bruises and degrading remarks.

This particular look of anger that Lucius held in his eyes was distinctly raw in Draco’s memory. It was during the summer before his third year had began, and his father had discovered exactly how Hermione Granger had survived the Basilisk, and how Lucius’s plan to open the Chamber of Secret’s had worked, but was short lived, all thanks to Draco. Draco had torn a page out of 'Most Macabre Monstrosities’ in Flourish and Blotts, and eventually snuck the page into a library book that he just knew Hermione would pick up. Looking back, Draco still didn’t understand why he saved the girl, because she was after all, a Mudblood. Compared to his blood status, she was the equivalent of dirt, yet he felt compelled to protect her from the Baslisk’s death stare, and even helped the school’s beloved ‘Golden Trio’ solve the mystery in the first place. Well of course, when Lucius found out, he was livid. His whole face became devoid of colour, turning almost as white as his hair, before it flushed crimson with undeniable rage. Draco could clearly remember stumbling backwards in the Malfoy manor’s drawing room, smacking his spine into the edge of the solid oak table before his father had launched at him. It felt like several hours later that his Mother came to his rescue, where she eventually pried Lucius off of the 13 year old boy. 

"Think, Malfoy. Think!" Lupin urged him, standing idly beside the wardrobe. Lupin observed the boy cautiously, catching the way his jaw clenched and the way his knuckles turned white as they tightly gripped his wand.

"R-r-riddikulus!" Malfoy stammered as Lucius raised his palm into the air towards him. Draco flicked his wand and with a crack and a flash of light, his father stumbled back, now donning a ridiculously shiny, turquoise tutu and matching platform heels. On his head laid a silk duck-egg blue bow, and on his arm was a sequinned handbag that looked absolutely atrocious. Despite how comical the Boggart now appeared, Draco couldn’t bring himself to laugh. He couldn’t ever forget how much pain he had to endure over the summer, with a broken nose, cracked ribs and a heavily bruised spine, laughing seemed entirely inappropriate.

The rest of the class roared with laughter as Draco turned his back on his father and stood at the back of the classroom, separated from his fellow Slytherins who now blatantly refused to even blink in his direction. Even Pansy avoided glancing at him for more than a second. Hermione turned her head to look at him as he slumped against the stone wall, adjusting the position of his bandaged arm. She instantly felt a wave of sympathy for the boy, as she truly couldn’t fathom the scene that she had just unfolded before them all.

It was really no wonder that Malfoy had became a bully, it's what his father would have taught him, perhaps it was a family tradition. Although it felt awfully invasive, seeing one of Malfoy's weaknesses along with the rest of the class, she couldn't help but wonder why Draco was so scared of the man who always hid behind. As she turned back around to face the Professor, she caught a glimpse of Malfoy’s silver eyes that bore right into her own.


End file.
